


I'm Still Undone, Not Quite Young

by Faye_Reynolds



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Prompt: Letters, Sledgefu Week 2020, only support and care for these broken boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faye_Reynolds/pseuds/Faye_Reynolds
Summary: after he wakes alone on the train, eugene sledge begins his long journey home, finding it more and more difficult to maintain his composure as the days drag into weeks and he’s expected to return to normal life. that life was never normal to him, he never wanted it. the walls he builds around his heart and his mind, prevent those close to him from looking to deep or asking too many questions. and while his family and friends struggle to navigate the choppy waters of his newfound temperament, a small piece of paper gathers dust in the pocket of the uniform eugene swore he’d never put back on. it isn’t until its discovery that eugene realizes that he’s never really been alone and that the people that he’s thought had been too nosy or adamant he do something with his life post-war, were acting out of love. and it’s that love that gives eugene the courage to something he never thought possible.
Relationships: Mary Houston/Sidney "Sid" Phillips, Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	I'm Still Undone, Not Quite Young

When Gene wakes, he’s alone.

Not entirely, the train is still full of marines waiting for their stop to go back home.

But Snafu is gone and, to Gene, it means he’s alone.

He’s not sure why it’s suddenly hard to breathe, but he handles it as best he can.

He wipes the sleep from his eyes then lay his head on the window and watches as the trees in the night begin to blur again as the train moves on to another stop.

He’s almost home, but the thought doesn’t bring quite as much comfort as it once did. Of course he wants to see his mother, father, and brother, but he’s not sure if he can marry the Eugene they knew to the man he was now. He doesn’t know how long he can maintain the walls he’s built before they begin to crumble.

He closes his eyes after watching his breath fog and blur against the window.

He doesn’t realizes he’s fallen asleep again until the whistle of the train wakes him with force.

He jumps, shocking the private in the spot that Snafu previously occupied.

“It’s alright man, just the train.” The man offers kindly, making sure Gene was okay.

“I’m fine,” he responds an unintentional venom in his voice.

The man nods, uneasy at Gene’s outburst.

“Sorry, thanks,” He appeases, “What stop are we at?”

“Montgomery, was about to wake you when you jumped.”

Gene jumped up, “Shit.”

He slung his bag on his shoulder and made his way towards an exit before turning around quickly and offering his hand.

“Thanks again.”

The private shakes his hand and nods.

Gene jumps onto the platform and walks toward where all the cars are parked on the side of the road, searching for –

“Well if it ain’t the sorriest sight for the sorest eyes.”

He turns and runs to Sid with a smile on his face and hugs him close.

They laugh as they pull away and Gene says, “It’s damn good to see you, Sid.”

“Back at ya, Sledge. Let’s get you home, huh?”

Gene’s mouth forms a thin line, but nods just the same.

They’re barely on the trip back from train station, when Gene’s habit kicks in.

He pats his pockets for his lighter, but when he doesn’t feel it he assumes it’s in his pack.

“Got a lighter, Sid?”

Sid hands one over, but not without saying, “You should quit that, Gene. Shit’ll kill you.”

Gene levels him with a glare then notices Sid barely keeping a smile in.

He mutters, “Asshole,” before they both burst into laughter.

He’s quick to express joy at Sid’s engagement, joking like nothing changed, because anything less would’ve broken Sid’s heart. Sid’s always been better at burying painful things than Gene.

After, Sid fills the rest of the long drive with incessant chatter about everything going on back home and nothing that went on overseas. Gene’s never been more grateful for their friendship.

They’re pulling up to Gene’s house when he finally drops back into the conversation.

“… and the Grover’s finally bought that silo though, so I expect they’ll be doing better now.”

Sid kills the engine and they wait in silence together while Gene just stares at his childhood home.

When it looks like Gene is perfectly fine remaining in the car for the rest of his life, Sid breaks the silence.

“It ain’t gonna disappear no matter how hard you stare at it, Gene.”

Gene smirks, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before responding.

“What the hell am I supposed to say to them, Sid?”

Sid places a hand on Gene’s shoulder, “Tell them you love them. Tell them you missed them. Then don’t tell them anything you’re not ready to or don’t want to tell them. If you’re not ready, they’re not ready. I’ll be just down the road, like always, Gene.”

He wipes the stray tears from his eyes, and turns to pull Sid into a tight hug.

“Thanks Sid.”

They pull apart and Sid ruffles Gene’s hair.

“Don’t mention it Gene, us Mobile boys gotta stick together.”

Gene gathers his things, pulls the pipe from his mouth as he leans forward, “See you later?”

Sid looks at him with barely concealed concern, but nods, “Welcome home Eugene.”

Sid pulls the car from the edge of the driveway and before Gene knows it, he’s alone again.

He walks slowly towards the front door and sooner than he’s okay with, he’s inside his home or what used to be his home.

He isn’t sure what home is anymore. Everything feels unfamiliar in an ethereal way; haunted by past, present, _and_ future.

He hears noise coming from deeper in the house and moves toward it blindly, unsure of who he’d find first.

He watches his mother, gentle as she ever been, set the china back in the cupboard. She closes the door and freezes at the same time Gene does.

She turns, hand reaching for her heart, before she rushes to Gene.

His expects to collapse in her arms in joy, but instead he just hugs her close. He wants breakdown, wants to feel something other than the chronic apathy that sits deep in his soul.

He sees his father then and before Gene can think of what to do, his father reaches a hand out to shake. Gene looks between the hand and his father’s face quickly before shaking it.

The pride and happiness in his father’s smile would have once made Gene feel the same, instead, his stomach turns in discomfort.

Luckily, his mother pulls him in again, tears and cries of joy and relief filling the room.

* * *

That night, they have a big dinner, and Sledge meets his brother’s fiancée, Martha. She’s quiet, but gentle and warm-hearted and Sledge has a passing thought of what a good mother she would be.

His mother dotes on him all night, while his brother discusses his European tour with flourish. They ask Gene for comparisons, but his shoulders tense and he shakes his head with intensity in response. They don’t ask him again.

He watches the dinner and rest of the night play out as though he’s an intruder on such a happy time.

His brother brings out trinkets and spoils from his time in the war and his fiancée and their mother gasp in amazement.

It’s strange, for Gene, to see such attention and love shared in the room and yet not want a single ounce of it. He recognizes his lack of emotion and desire but does nothing to stop it.

Instead, he fakes a smile and ignores the knowing look on his father’s face whenever he looks at Gene.

It’s freeing, in a way, to not feel anything and Gene wants to bask in it for as long as he can.

He hangs his uniform in the closet, neat and tidy as was drilled into him. He stares at the bed in slight horror before succumbing to exhaustion.

He doesn’t remember the nightmares, not entirely. There are just flashes of images that remain, always lingering in his head somewhere. However, he does note the concern and wariness that he’s met with the following morning, but ignores it in favor of sinking into a new book.

It isn’t fair, he knows, but if stops, even for a moment to think, he’s certain the walls will collapse. He’s terrified he’ll never recover once that happens.

It isn’t until his brother speaks to him that Gene feels like he’s about to burst. It isn’t his brothers fault, he knows he means well, but the discussion of his romantic future is one he’d rather not have with anyone. Much less his brother who, bless him, would never understand Gene’s romantic _inclinations_ or want to hear about them. And it isn’t the ignorance that breaks his heart, it’s the freedom. The ease in which his brother can wax poetic about Martha’s eyes, hair, and breasts, but Gene can’t mention Snafu’s lips, hands, or voice lest he be condemned in the eyes of his family.

 _Snafu._ Just the thought of him makes Gene’s heart simultaneously break and race and he’s tried his hardest not to think of him since he got home. More so than any other of the many things Gene doesn’t want to think about.

He clears the images from his mind, especially the long looks they shared on the train before sleep caught up to Gene. He thought for certain, Snafu would say something in the clever way he manages to convey his true meaning in fifteen words when five would’ve done just fine. Instead, Gene was left alone without a single word of goodbye. It hurt more than any rejection he would’ve received, the silence and what-ifs.

When his brother brings up the O.O.M. ball and tells him he should go, Gene is quick to change the conversation to an only slightly less uncomfortable one, hoping to end it as soon as possible.

“No, Edward, I don’t believe I will.” He declares, defiant and wistful.

“You’re gonna pass on the O.O.M. ball?”

“No, I don’t believe I will ever put on a uniform again. _Ever_.”

He brother looks shocked for a moment and Gene feels it himself, but once it’s out of his mouth, he’s knows it’s true.

They stare at one another and his brother’s expression shifts into confusion then disappointment.

“Not a lick of sense in you.”

He finishes his drink and leaves.

Gene closes his eyes against the morning light and savors the silence, both outside and in his head.

* * *

He knows the going to the university was a mistake before he even gets there, but if he spent one more moment of worried glances from his family, he was going to scream. It’s childish, but he thinks he’s earned it. He wonders what Snaf would think of seeing him in a suit and tie trying to sign up for college. He’d make some wiseass remark about Gene being a genius that would make his sides burst in laughter. Then Snafu would look at him in the way that always makes Gene feel like he’s the only one in the room.

Gene quickly snaps himself out of that stream of consciousness and when he shows up, it’s to a flurry of excitement. People chatting and smiling as though they all didn’t just come out of a fucking war. Their smiles sour his stomach, but he fakes his own and tries to power through the disquiet.

He knows it’s not the young girl’s fault, that they are questions she probably has to ask everyone, but each one she asks Gene has his fuse shortening just a little bit more.

“Isn’t there anything the Marine Corps taught you that you can continue at ‘Bama Poly?”

 _Too far._ He thinks as he stares at her earnest, _innocent_ face. He knows he once used to look the same. Not anymore.

He leans in.

“They taught me how to kill Japs,” he makes eye contact to emphasize his point, “I got pretty damn good at it.”

He watches with a slight sense of joy at her immediate discomfort and shock.

_Who did she think she was talking to? An altar boy? Desk clerk? He was a goddamn marine._

Then his stomach tuns again.

He leaves without another word, bile threatening to burn his throat at any moment.

* * *

The O.O.M. ball is the same night and Gene reluctantly waits until the last minute to go. He only decides to attend so his family and Sid would get off his back about finding someone to marry.

He’s rushing because he waited too long and, in his haste to grab his suit jacket, his uniform crashes to the ground and spills on the floor.

He sighs heavily.

Gene did his very best to ignore the familiar outfit, remembering what happened the last time he wore it, determined to follow through on his promise to his brother and himself. With haste, he grabs the uniform and shoves it back in his closet.

He looks down to smooth his shirt when his eyes catch on a white slip of paper halfway under the bed.

He slowly picks up the paper and is about to open it when his brother shouts up the stairs that they need to leave.

Gene pockets the square parcel for later and heads downstairs.

The night goes about as well as Gene thought it would. Couples, fledgling and old alike, dance around the room while single guys and gals gush about one another from across the room. Gene sits alone and hopes his sour disposition is enough to keep people away. He’s been thinking too much in general, but with all the affection in the air, Snafu is the center of his thoughts.

When it gets too much, he leans into his vice. Pipe in hand he leaves the building without so much as a goodbye. He find a spot among the stairs, lighting his pipe with a new lighter since he’s know certain he lost the old one.

“I saw you making a break for it.”

Of course, Sid finds him, always finds him when Gene needs a friend the most, and hands him a drink.  
  
“I thought you could use a punch properly spiked.”  
  
“Thank you,” Gene mutters, pipe still held between his teeth.  
  
“Drink fast. If Mary catches us, she'll have me back inside dancing all night.”

Gene scoffs, _oh the problems he has to deal with now._

  
He tries to tease Sid, reminiscent of their old banter, “You see that? That's why I'm still a bachelor.”

Politeness instilled in him; he places the pipe in his suit pocket.

He looks back to Sid, “I don't dance until Eugene Sledge wants to dance.”

They fall into silence and Gene wants to curse Sid for being able to wait him out, but with what happened in the morning, Gene needed to talk. And Sid, he’s always understood Gene in ways very little others have.  
  
He sighs, heavy and tired, “How did all this happen? I mean look at us, Sid, sitting here at a dance,  
drinking punch. Not a scratch on either of us.”

He notices the shift in Sid’s demeanor, wishes he wasn’t the reason for it, but continues anyway because if he doesn’t voice this to someone, he’s he would break.

“I mean what the hell are we doing here? And why...why did I end up back here when all those other fellas didn't?”

 _Fellas_ … he uses it in a way that’s as dismissive as it is protective.

He thinks.

 _As if anyone could truly know the depth and character, flaws and virtues, joys and fears, of the men I served with. They couldn’t, wouldn’t. Not anymore._  
  
Sid responds with the realism and grounded reason that has always managed to keep Gene on the ground when he’s thought took him too high.

“I thought that. Every guy back has thought that. But you've just got to pull yourself out of bed in the morning and get on with the day. You do that enough times in a row, you forget some things. For a while, anyway.”

It isn’t what Sledge wants to hear, he wants mutual anger and outrage, but the calm and common sense of his best friend is exactly what he needs. A shift in perspective that doesn’t deny or cover what they went through. Rather, a better way of handling it that doesn’t involve isolation and self-pity. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough.

He hears hear heels clicking then, “Sidney Phillips.”

Gene watches as Sid’s demeanor changes again. From anguish and hidden hurt, to pride and joy.

“Yeah?!”  
  
“Will you get back in here and dance with the woman who loves you?” Mary Houston requested, sweet as candy, like everything else she did.  
  
“I'm coming, boss lady,” Sid replies, like a man who knew not to take her for granted or to deny her a thing in life.

He turns back to Gene.

“Why don't you come on in? I'll wrangle you a partner.”

It isn’t the pity in Sid’s eyes or the need to silence the requests for him to find a partner that keeps Gene from going back in. It’s that no one in that room deserves to be lied to or mistreated for the sake of putting anyone else at ease. Gene would rather be alone then lead someone on. One line he’d never cross, no matter what. He knows where that roads leads and though he’s on it at the moment, he isn’t going to drag anyone else along for the sake of not being alone.

Still, he smiles as he says, “No.” He shakes his head, his fondness for Sid and their friendship making him feel lighter than he has since he’s been home.

“No.” He says again as he looks up, and Sid looks back in the knowing way that he always does where Gene is concerned. He opens his mouth as if to says something but stops himself and turns to go back inside.

Gene sighs and downs his drink. Alone again.

He sets the glass behind him and settles in the cool, but humid Alabama night. He pats his pockets for his lighter when he remembers the note in his pocket.

He pulls the slip of paper from his pocket and notices his name in a shoddy handwriting. He instantly recognizes and braces himself against the stairs as his falls into them. He hears his glass shatter on the ground and gasps of those around him, but nothing is more important than what’s in his hand.

 _Sledgehammer._ The single word is written on the outer square of the folded paper.

He’s having trouble breathing like when he woke up on the train but ignores it.

With caution, he opens the sheet of paper, hands begging to tremble.

He holds a hand to his mouth as he reads.

_Eugene,_

_I feel silly writin’ this when you’re right in front of me, but then again I ain’t ever claimed to be a serious man._

_I’m not one for writin’ so I’ll try to keep this short._

_If I carry anything with me from this war heavier than the darkness, it’s the regret that I never told you the truth._

_Even now, as my stop gets closer and you sleep soundly, I can’t bring myself to say it to you. I don’t want to stop you from livin’ the life you so rightly earned and sacrificed so much to have. But I’m selfish and if my greatest act of cowardice is writin’ this in a letter, then so be it._

_I love you, Eugene. In all ways possible. All the ways that matter._

_Probably have since I threw a boot on your cot if I’m bein’ honest._

_And in all my honesty, I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I love you. You marked me deeper than any other scar from the war. One that I will wear, proudly, for the rest of my life._

_I ain’t presuming nothin’ but in the honor of truth, I think you feel the same._

_So, I’m stealin’ your lighter._

_You want it? Come get it._

_Can’t say I won’t put up a fight though._

_Yours if you want me,_

_Snafu_

Gene’s certain he’s crying but doesn’t realize it until a drop blurs the ink on the edge of the paper. He turns it over and finds an address on the back.

He takes his brother’s car, not caring about the certain upset it’ll cause once the night ends.

Snafu loved him. _Loved him._ And the son of bitch stole his lighter.

Gene laughs so hard it hurts and once he’s certain his heart won’t explode from overexertion. The car is barely parked before he’s running into the house, tossing the keys on the table by the door.

“Where’s the fire?” His mother shouts from the drawing-room where she’s reading a book while their father works on a modeling project.

Gene is in his room already packing a bag when she catches up with him.

“Going somewhere?” She asks, slight lilt to her voice that Gene can’t remember ever hearing.

“Louisiana.” He replies quickly, refusing to lie to his mother because she deserved more than that.

“What’s in Louisiana?”

Gene laughs again, how should he respond?

_My heart? My future? My life?_

He goes for the truth, “My lighter.”

He zips the travel bag shut and moves to run down the stairs.

“Eugene!”

He’s almost to the front door when her outcry causes him to stop.

He turns and looks to his mother who looks equal parts sad and proud.

She walks to the table near the entrance to grab car keys before she opens a drawer and pulls out a blank white envelope.

She hands it to him and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Whenever you’re ready to come home, we’ll be here.”

She kisses him on the forehead and smiles before guiding him to the car, keys jingling in her hand.

“Edward! It’s time!”

Gene watches in absolute confusion as his father comes speeding down the hall.

“It’s time? Finally!”

“Hold on, what’s going on?”

He watches as his mother looks to his father with mischief and delight that makes her look so much younger.

“Your mother’s meddling has finally done some good.”

“I found your letter I was hanging up your clothes, sweetheart. I thought it might have been something important that you forgot, so I opened it. I wasn’t sure what to do so I left it there for when you found it on your own.”

Gene wants to be mad, not at the accidental invasion of his privacy, more so her withholding of the information, but he can’t. Moreover, he’s in shock, the second time for the night, at their handling of the information.

He looks, dumbfounded and mouth hanging open, to his father, concerned at his reaction. He finds nothing but open and honest happiness and slight relief.

“But…” He trails off, uncertain of how to voice anything.

“You’ve suffered enough Eugene, and you’ve done so alone. You shouldn’t suffer that way anymore. If what you take the most from combat is love rather than grief, then it’s a blessing. Real happiness and love are rare enough to find in this world, whoever you find it with doesn’t matter. Least of all to us. Especially when you’ve both been through hell, son.”

He pulls Eugene into a tighter hug and Eugene hugs back, tears falling as the walls he’s held up begin to crumble further.

They pull apart and his mom wipes his tears with the sleeve of her housecoat.

“Be safe and be careful though, dear, there are plenty of people who’d wish you both harm for it. If you ever need a haven, come home. And when or _if_ you’re both ever ready, we’d love to meet them.”

“Any chance to embarrass me, huh?” He wipes the other tears that have fallen gently from his face. He feels as though he’s floating with the sudden rush of emotion and endless love he feels wrapped around him.

“I am still your mother. You can always be certain. I will embarrass you.”

His father claps once in excitement and pushes them out the door.

“We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s get you to the train station!”

Gene smiles and walks with them towards the car parked haphazardly on the grass.

The three of them stop and stare for a moment.

“Oh yeah,” Gene says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, “You’re gonna wanna pick up Ed and Martha on your way back, I kinda stole his car.”

* * *

The entire time he’s on the train, Gene can think of nothing else but what he’s going to say to Snafu when he sees him.

What does one say in an event like this?

Was there any combination of words that could explain how Gene felt? If there was, he’s not certain what they are.

“New Orleans! Stop here for New Orleans!”

He jumps, both grateful for the end of the trip and at how quickly the trip had gone by.

He grabs the bag he packed, letter gripped tightly, not crushing, in his left hand. He’d read and reread it over and over again during the trip, restoring his hope each time that even though months have passed, Snafu would still be waiting for him.

He jumps onto the platform, oddly feeling like he did months ago when he first got home, broken in so many ways. Only this time, he feels more put together into who he used to be and stronger and full of a renewed hope he thought he’d lost.

“Pardon me, Miss?”

An older woman with slight greying hair and wrinkle gathering around kind brown eyes, looks at him. He’s reminded of his mother and smiles wide.

“Yes, son what is it?”

“Do you know where this is?” He points to the address on the letter and she squint when she tries to read it.

“Oh, that’s way out in the country. Bernard!” She shouts to a man of the same age trying to balance several bags.

“Bernard!” She shouts louder and Gene laughs and moves to help the man with the bags.

“Why’re you shouting Carol? I’m only five feet away.”

“This young man is headed out our way, and since he was kind enough to help you, we’re offering him a ride.”

“You ain’t a criminal, are ya?”

Gene laughs, “No, sir. Just visiting an old friend.” He knows he blushes when he says it, but he can’t control it.

“Oh, _that_ kind of friend. Well, now it’d be our honor to take you to the little lady.”

Gene doesn’t correct them and nods his thanks as he helps them to their car. Then he’s on the road, watching the bright lights of New Orleans fade into the dark, thick trees of the country.

“Now seeing as it’s so late, you sure you want us to drop you at their home?”

Gene thinks for a moment and realizes he can’t wait until morning. He’s unintentionally made Snafu wait this long.

“Yes please, they’ve been expecting me.”

They arrive at the edge of what was once a dirt road but is now becoming overgrown with weeds and flowers.

He turns back to the car where Mary’s window is turned down.

“You sure this is it?” He repeats the address.

She nods, “They house is at the end of the path, child. Follow it until you see the lights.”

He nods, “Thank you for everything. I really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem, son. Thank you for all your help.”

They smile and say their goodbyes and then Gene is in the pitch black of night and is alone again.

But he wouldn’t be for long.

He shoulders his bag and begins walking down the path, wafts of honeysuckle and magnolias wrap around him in the humid air and he feels, strangely, like he’s coming home.

Then he feels sweaty. The Louisiana night was doing nothing to kill the heat and Gene has to stop to remove his tan jacket and buttoned shirt, leaving him much cooler in the plain white t-shirt he wore underneath.

He keeps walking straight, following the half-dirt path in hopes he sees the light soon.

It isn’t until another half-mile that the house bursts into view out of nowhere, warm, yellow light hiding amongst the branches of the trees that surround it.

He smiles, wipes his brow, and walks faster toward the house.

He takes it all in, the white, slightly worn exterior, the windows that cover the entire front, the carport that houses a small red truck, everything about it reminds Gene of Snafu. He’s trying to decide how to knock when he notices and breathes in the familiar scent of cigarette smoke coming from behind the side.

He leaves his bag by the front door, but still clutches the letter in his left pocket.

Gene hears a quiet jazz playing, a quieter hum and tapping of bare feet as he approaches the back of the house.

He creeps along the side and when he first sees him, Gene’s certain his heart stops.

Snafu is resting against a fence overlooking the bayou, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. There’s a slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead and along his back where his green shirt sticks to his back and arms. Tan linen pants flow against the welcomed breeze off the water and through the trees and rose bushes reaching for Snafu. And for a moment Gene feels like he's intruding on such a sanctuary.

Then an edge of the letter itches at his thigh and he remembers why he was there.

He takes a deep breath and as Snafu turns to light another smoke, with _Gene’s_ lighter, he decides to reveal himself.

“I oughta have you arrested for grand larceny, Merriel Shelton.”

The bottle crashes to the ground and Snafu’s back is to him, so Gene can’t see his face. In a way, he’s glad for it because Gene’s not sure he could handle the expression on the man’s face, even though he knows it mirrors his.

Utter disbelief and relief at knowing they were no more than ten feet apart once again.

Snafu slowly turns around and once their eyes meet, Gene feels every wall, what’s left of them, come crashing down.

He can’t breathe for a long moment and if he should die now, he’d be happy because Snafu is alive and whole and _loves him_.

“Well now, that’s not quite fair, Sledgehammah. You stole something of mine first, it’s only right that I should have something in return.”

Snafu is smiling, but there is genuine concern and fear in his eyes that Gene wants to kiss away.

He takes a few more steps onto the patio and into the light. He doesn’t miss, couldn’t miss, the way Snafu’s breathing quickens when Gene smiles and pulls the letter from his pocket.

“I got your letter, Snafu.”

He watches the other man nod in front of him, shoulders tight with tension.

“Sorry it took me so long; I only found it this afternoon.”

Snafu nods and throws his cigarette into an empty bottle standing on the table beside him.

“Ain’t gonna lie, thought you found it and didn’t wanna bother. It’s been months, Gene. Didn’t think you’d ever turn up.”

Snafu breaks eye contact and rolls his shoulders to try to rid of the tension.

This isn’t going exactly how Gene planned. He didn’t expect to be so unsure or apprehensive.

He may be uncertain of everything else, but he knows, without a doubt, that he’s in love with the man standing before him.

He takes a deep breath again, then four quick steps closer to the brunette. They’re less than a foot apart and this close Gene can see how much more tan and freckled Snafu’s skin has gotten in the Louisiana sun, he’s eyes contrast with it in a way that makes them deeper and Gene finds he can’t look away.

“Now then, you know I needed to come retrieve my lighter, Snaf. Can’t rightly live without it.”

Gene watches as understanding reaches Snafu’s eyes.

Then there’s a bright and wide smile that is so familiar and comforting that Gene’s heart aches at the sight of it.

“Had to get you out here somehow.”

Gene laughs and with courage stronger than he managed to muster in combat, he places his hands with care and tenderness on either side of Snafu’s neck.

“I came for _you,_ ” Gene smiles as Snafu’s breath hitches, “That lighter ain’t even rightfully mine.”

Snafu laughs and Gene feels the vibrations of it shake his hands.

“You little shit.”

Gene laughs with him and mutters a gentler, “That may be true, but you love me.”

Snafu’s laugh cuts off and he looks back up with a jerk, hands wrapping tightly around Gene’s where they’re connected at the base of Snafu’s neck.

“That I do, Gene.” Snafu replies, spoken softly on the breath of the wind that blows around them.

Gene’s right thumb runs up the middle column of Snafu’s throat, and he smiles at the harsh swallow that pushes against it.

He can’t draw his eyes from Snafu’s lips, especially when the bottom one disappears beneath his teeth.

Snafu’s hands move from Gene’s hands to his hips and pulls him closer. Gene’s cheeks redden against his will, but he stares at their connected hips for a long moment, willing his heart to quiet down.

“It’s now or never, _Eugene_. A man can’t wait forever.”

His eyes shoot back up and he catches the shit-eating grin that was so familiar, and Gene realizes he’d finally found the home he thought he’d lost.

He sighs, both fond and annoyed at once, “S’pose you’ve waited patiently long enough, Snaf.”

Snafu opens his mouth to reply, most likely with something smart, but Gene silences him with a kiss.

He’s pulled tighter into Snafu’s arms the moment their lips touch. It’s like being struck by lightning in the middle of a hurricane. Every nerve ending is in shock and his adrenaline is pumping as fast as his heart races. He never imagined it would feel like this.

Then Snafu’s tongue glides across the seam of his lips and Gene moans as he grants the request.

The heat of their embrace rises as their skin cools in the breeze, the contrast causing goosebumps to rise on their skin and delightful shivers down their spines.

Gene pulls back, overtaken with the moment,

He holds Snafu’s close, unwilling to move even an inch away.

“I love you, Merriel. In all ways possible. All the ways that matter.”

Snafu stares at him for a long moment and Gene stares back, both committing to memory that fact that they survived a war which scarred them in different but many ways, lost one another, only to find each other again.

Then they smile at one another and find comfort and peace in one another’s arms.

Gene was no longer alone. 

Never would be again.

He was _home._


End file.
